On Love's Tail: Consumation
by Cecero
Summary: Crossbreed Priscilla and the Chosen Undead consumating their relationship. (Smut from On Love's Tail moved to keep it T)
1. Consumation

The two lovers stare at the bed, a looming sense of finality hanging in the air around it.

"Well... I suppose we should..." Priscilla starts nervously.

Sær shifts anxiously. "Yes..."

"D-do you want to?"

"Of course! I, I mean, if-if-if you..." Sær gulps. Now that the moment has finally come, initiating it seems much more intimidating.

Priscilla nods. "What... How should we

s-start? I know t-th-the basics from a book... An educational one! Not the other kind. I, what feels, um, for you, when we, will you... B-because I want to make you good feel! Ehm, I-I-I mean, f-feel... Good..."

She looks to be on the verge of tears.

Sær holds her tail, squeezing it reassuringly. "I love you, Priscilla. We don't have to do anything if you're not comfortable. We can take things at your pace." He smiles at her.

Her lower lip trembles. "Oh, Sær..." She kneels down, wrapping him in a tender embrace and gently placing her lips against his. They kiss passionately, so much so that Priscilla feels dizzy from the pleasure. Losing her balance, she topples onto the bed, taking Sær with her. The two continue, only stopping for a much-needed breath. "Haah," she pants. "Darling... Can you... H-help me with my dress?"

Sær nods. She sits up, and with trembling fingers, he unlaces her full-body veil. Priscilla shrugs her shoulders, and the dress flows off her torso in a waterfall of silk. Her back is pale and pristine, exquisitely toned. Sær rubs it reverently, and his wife sighs happily. The two lay upon the enormous feather bed, sighing happily as they embrace.

Priscilla purrs as Sær wriggles closer to her, kissing her neck. Slowly, her tail begins to curl in on itself. The movement doesn't escape Sær, and he smirks at her. "Does that excite you?"

Priscilla notices her tail, and quickly buries her face in her hands. "I'm s-s-s-sorry! I'm not -I shouldnt- please don't think I'm a naughty jezebel!"

"A what now?"

Priscilla doesn't answer, prompting Sær to sigh fondly. "Priscilla, it's alright to feel like this. You don't have to be embarrassed about your body or your desires."

"I can't help it," she whimpers.

An idea forms in Særs head. Gently unwrapping the wide strips of cloth that make up her dress, he gathers it, folds it, and lovingly ties it on Priscilla's head, obscuring her vision. "There. Don't think about what's happening. Don't think about where we are. Don't think about who we are. We're not Priscilla and Sær. We're just two people, loving each other. No more, no less."

Priscilla nods, taking a shaky breath. She nods once more, signaling to Sær that she's ready. He lays down gently along her stomach, gently rubbing between her legs. She hisses and whimpers at the contact, mouth open slightly. Peppering kisses around her navel, Sær reaches up to gently caress her chest. She lets out another moan, rubbing her legs together as her lover reaches a hand down to stroke her pert rear. Growing bold, he delicately rubs between her legs with his other hand. The entire experience is new to him, as he only has vague memories of making love before he became undead.

By the fourth minute, Priscilla is mewling, and the both of them are more aroused than they've ever been in their lives. She whimpers wantonly, raising her hips and pushing up against Sær. Taking deep breaths, she slowly removes her blindfold, the pleasure washing away any doubt or embarrassment she has. Leaning forward, she kisses Sær deeply, and his patience finally snaps. Pulling away from her lips, he quickly removes the rest of his clothes. Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to mate with her, and his mind has turned hazy, unable to restrain his needs any longer.

He lines himself up between her legs, breathing hard. Unbidden, her tail snakes up to wrap around his torso, and without pause, it pulls him towards her, his length sinking to her to the hilt. Priscilla lets out an animalistic yowl of pain and pleasure, a sharp stinging pain emanating from her maidenhead. They hold still, eyes closed as Priscilla adjusts to the sensation of being filled. Despite the pain, she can sense a steady trickle of pleasure peeking through. The sensation of sex is unlike she could have ever imagined; a feeling of fullness, a feeling that two bodies have become one. Sær throbs inside of her, clearly eager to continue.

Priscilla's large chest rises and falls, beads of sweat beginning to form on her neck. Tentatively, she shifts her hips, causing her lover's member to shift inside of her, sending a spike of pain and pleasure through her mind. Sær gives a slow, short thrust, then stills, allowing her to rest for a moment before repeating the action. Despite the small amount of force used, Priscilla gasps and pants reflexively.

Sær leans his head back and groans as she clenches around him, the warm, wet cavern massaging his member. Her tail is still wrapped around his torso, flexing with each little movement. "Are... Are you alright? Does it hurt?" Sær asks, panting.

Priscilla nods. "A little, but the pain is fading. Do not worry about me, please..."

Sær shakes his head in disbelief. Even now, she holds his needs above her own.

He angles himself upwards, sinking into her deeper. She yelps cutely, her tail squeezing and pulling him until his member is completely enveloped by her warm folds. His head bucks, and he pants, flexing. Gripping her hips, he thrusts into her savagely, drawing a scream of ecstacy from her throat. She is moaning freely now, her toes clenching as Sær pounds into her.

Withdrawing to the very tip, he slams back and forth, sending pleasure shooting along his back. The near-scalding heat of her entrance makes it impossible to think, so intense is the pleasure. The entire world falls away, and the only sensation either of them can feel is pleasure. Sær repeats slow, deliberate thrusts, and Priscilla lays back with a blissful grin on her face. The next dozen minutes are a cacaphony of moans, whimpers, and sweet nothings punctuated by the sound of skin on skin.

"P-Priscilla," he pants, "I can't..."

Her chest heaves, her naked body glistening with sweat. "Just a little longer..." she says between breaths.

Sær grits his teeth, withdrawing from her wet heat. In a flash, Priscilla locks her legs behind his back, and her tail forces him to thrust in and out of her. "Don't you dare," she growls. "We finish together, or not at all."

"But what if you get-"

Priscilla silences him with a kiss, and he ceases his struggling, giving in to her. By now her tail is locked around him, and it will stay that way until they are finished. The tail of a crossbreed reflexively ensnares a mate, not letting go until the deed is done.

Sær speeds up his thrusting, and Priscilla clenches tightly around him, curling up and locking lips with him. This finally sends her over the edge, and she screams as her orgasm slams into her. Wave after wave of ecstasy flows through her body, and she flexes, enveloping Sær's member in a tight hug of pleasure. "Kuh! P-P-PRISCILLA!"

He shouts her name, finally reaching his peak and flooding her with his seed. Priscilla gives a bone-rattling yowl of pleasure, and the two grip each other tightly. Sær pumps into her jerkily, each movement sending another rope of his release crashing into her, the heat causing her eyes to widen as she gasps.

Sær's eyes unfocus, stuck in a trance as he releases more of his essence than he thought was possible. Slowly, his vision begins to go from light to dark, the last remnants of his monstrous orgasm leaving him at last. Priscilla quivers, still on her way down from her peak. Her husband's seed spreads throughout her, the heat sending jolts of bliss up her spine.

At last, the two go limp, and Sær slumps against his wife. Affectionately nuzzling her abdomen, his mind finally succumbs to exhaustion, this most sacred of acts bringing him a deep, peaceful slumber.


	2. Presents

Large flakes of snow fall as the two lovers walk through the city of Anor Londo. The blanket of white quiets the city normally teeming with humans.

Once abandoned, now that Gwyndolin has taken charge ot has transformed into a bustling hub once more. Darkmoon knights and warriors from Darkroot City had banded together, and with the Dark Sun's guidance, they had taken back the city from the hollow menace. Shortly after, Priscilla erected a wall of ice around the city limits, giving the citizens within precious months to erect a more permanent wall.

Taxes and tariffs are no more, for a time.

Citizens willingly clean and repair the city, diligently working to restore it to it's former glory, a beacon of humanity amidst the encroaching dark. Sær and Priscilla both are received as royalty, which technically they are.

Being the daughter of a princess who had forfeited her right to rule, Priscilla was, if in name only, a queen. Sær, always at her side, is, if in name only, a king. Both had forfeited their right to rule, knowing nothing of politics, nor wanting to shoulder the responsibility.

Still, as they walk through the city, they are lavished with presents, praise, and pats.

(A superstition had quickly spread that rubbing the tail of the queen would bring one luck.)

Priscilla yawns, which for a crossbreed is closer to a yowl. "This is the first time I have seen snow since we left Ariamis."

Sær looks at her worriedly. "Does it bring back bad memories?"

"Oddly, no. The snow here has another feel to it, a shine. It's soothing and peaceful, and the texture is powdery and soft." She smiles faintly, her bare feet crunching the snow as the two approach the spiral staircase to the castle. "More importantly, I have a wonderful person to share it with," she giggles.

"Really? Who?"

Priscilla rolls her eyes, picking up her foolish little husband by the scruff of his neck, setting him upon her back. "The most handsome-"

"-And smartest," Sær interjects.

"Yes, and smartest. And the most insecure, it would seem," Priscilla says flatly.

"Then it's a good thing I have the world's fluffiest, sweetest, most lascivious security blanket."

Priscilla groans. "Were your words any sweeter, your teeth would rot."

"What can I say?" Sær grins. "You turn me into an utter sap."

Priscilla rubs her temples, eager to reach the castle and be free of these dreadful puns.

"Priscilla! 'Tis been so long!"

Gwynevere, the Princess of Sunlight, Picks her daughter up like a plaything, hugging her fiercely.

"It has been but a single moon, mother," Priscilla replies. "I am a married woman now; my dear old mother is no longer of top concern."

"Ah! You wound me with these words, Priscilla!" Gwynevere mock-gasps, setting her down. She rounds on Sær, clearly expecting an embrace.

"P-P-P-Priscilla..." He looks toward her pleadingly, clearly terrified of his mother-in-law.

Priscilla scoops him up, clutching him to her bosom protectively. "Sær is feeling quite worn from the trip here. Are there any baths drawn that we may use?"

Gwynevere's eyes dart between the two suspiciously. "...Fine. Up the stairs, down the hall, up the lift, left at the golden bust, right at the priceless vase, up the stairs, down the ramp and the guest's bath will be at the end of the hall."

"I love castles," Sær breathes.

"Aaaaaah~..."

Steam rises in translucent sheets as the couple sink into the bath. Sær's feet tingle, pins and needles shooting through them as he thaws. The bits of frost that had accumulated on Priscilla's tail melt instantly, and her tail-fur floats with ethereal beauty. Sinking in to her shoulders, the bath water spills over the top, drenching the marble floors.

The bath is truly only a bath in name, such is it's size. Natural hot springs are abundant in the mountain where the castle rests, and the water is pumped beneath the floors, heating the tiles. By the time the scalding water reaches the bath, it is just the right temperature.

Fresh water cascades over a marble island in the center, and the cool water slides through vents at the bottom. Cold wind blows through the high open ceiling, pleasantly nipping at the skin of the two lovers. Abnormally large flakes of snow float gently down to the surface of the water, lasting but a moment before melting.

Sær turns, leaning back against his wife's shoulder. Her fur is still sparse, and he can see pink patches of skin poking through. Grinning, he pokes one, satisfied when he hears her emit a sqeal.

"Darling, stop! You know I'm sensitive under my fur!" Priscilla whines.

"I'm aware," Sær cackles. "And it's a fact I take advantage of every~ single~ night~,"

he purrs, raising an eyebrow.

The crossbreed would blush if her face wasn't already flushed from the heat. "You're insatiable. It has only been a mere-"

"Two hours and twenty-seven minutes. Two hours, twenty-six minutes and and forty seconds longer than I'd like," he interjects, lightly running his fingertips along her midsection.

"You had best get used to waiting," she huffs. "Mother says that the holiday dinner will be ready within the hour."

"That's plenty of time."

"What will I do with you..." Priscilla complains.

Sær smirks. "I can think of a few things."

Sær makes his way up the stairs toward his and Priscilla's quarters, his belly full to bursting. Roast mutton, honey-drizzled baked apple, winter stout, and a large helping of greens force-fed to him by his wife. And as everyone knows, there is only one thing to do after a good meal.

Straining to open the massive door to the royal chambers, he is greeted by none other than his lovely mate.

Naked. Covered in ribbons.

Sær's jaw drops, transfixed by the giant beauty sprawled across the bed. "I... You... Is this... how... Prisc-... Um..."

"Well?" She says, giggling at his stammering. "Are you going to 'open' your present?"

Sær nods frantically, hurriedly removing his clothes and tripping over himself to reach her.

"Hurry, Hurry~," the crossbreed teases, rolling over on her stomach and kicking her legs. Her tail sways like a pendulum. As if her lover isn't hypnotized already.

Finally freeing himself from his breeches, Sær climbs up on the bed, kneeling over his lover. Her tail dips forward, carressing his chin as he lines up with her womanhood, breathing heavily.

Priscilla looks back at him and wiggles her rump teasingly, and the last of his restraint snaps. In one swift movement, he plunges into her, the wetness of her sex accomadating him easily. Sær's eyes close tightly as she wraps her folds around him, massaging his member and eliceliciting continuous groans from him.

She gently wraps her tail around his midsection, holding him steady as she rocks back and forth, continuing to clench around his length. Moans spill from her mate's mouth freely, his head lolling back loosely.

"P-Please don't stop," He pleads weakly.

Priscilla rewards his begging by clenching as hard as she can, drawing him in all the way to the hilt. Sær's eyes open wide, and he gasps loudly as he feels the deepest part of her kissing the tip of his length.

He grips her hips with shaky hands, desperately pumping into her as she matches his thrusts.

He can feel tension rising in his chest, that blissful peak looming overhead.

Priscilla is quickly reaching her peak as well, perfectly in stride with her husband's timing as usual. She shifts her hips upward slightly, and she can suddenly feel his sac tapping against the most sensitive part of her.

A storm of pleasure erupts in her head, all conscious thought gone. He hilts himself once more, and the combination of his manhood kissing the most sacred part of her womanhood and his sac once more hitting her sensitive nub, release finally washes over her. Her toes shake and curl, and every muscle in her body clenches as her vision turns white. Sær plunges into her one last time, her own orgasm spurring him on. She clenches down around him, and with a loud groan, he spills himself within her. Her womb is inundated with his seed, the hot ropes causing surges of ecstasy. She involuntarily clenches down his length, milking every last drop of his essence as he clutches her tightly, head bucking.

Finally spent, the two ride their climaxes into a deep sleep, dreaming only of each other.


End file.
